


Hatred to Last a Lifetime

by ChaosRocket



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Slice of Life, Thiefshipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-23 03:26:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4861217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaosRocket/pseuds/ChaosRocket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from Moira_chan: "I'd love to see a post-canon Thiefshipping fanfic in which they have been living together for a while and totally act like an old married couple, except they're not married and have never even thought about tying the knot."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hatred to Last a Lifetime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Moira_chan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moira_chan/gifts).



> Moira_chan requested post-canon domestic Thiefshipping fluff, so here it is! Hope you like it!
> 
> Thanks to Cyn for the beta!

Bakura had thought that he'd never get old. He supposed that sounded cliche; the type of thing that every ignorant teenager thought at one time or another. But in his case, he had a reasonable excuse. He'd barely been an adult when he'd first gotten trapped in the Millennium Ring, and then he'd spent 3000 years as an ageless spirit before getting stuck with a 16 year old boy as a host. And after that...well, Marik had pulled him out of the shadows. And then he was suddenly in a situation where he had his own body, which aged normally, and he began to get old right along with everyone else. It was unnerving. No...unnerving didn't even _begin_ describe the feeling of regaining his humanity and having a body that could actually retain the marks of a life lived. It was a slow, ongoing process of fascination and mild horror. 

And now here he was, his body approaching forty years old, his white hair beginning to turn gray, and wrinkles starting to appear around the corners of his eyes. Of course, Marik didn't have any gray hair or wrinkles. Marik got chemical peels to keep his skin smooth, and washed blond dye through his hair so it was the same golden color as ever. Bakura thought it was fitting that he still looked so young, because Marik was the same immature brat he'd always been. 

Currently, Marik was standing in the kitchen, yelling something about how Bakura had drunk all the juice and didn't even bother to replace it. Bakura could hear Marik's familiar shrill voice ranting on about how he had told him time and time again that it was fine if Bakura finished some of the food or drink, so long as he went out to get more, or at the very least, _told_ Marik when he'd consumed it all so Marik would know to go buy more himself...and gods, was Marik as annoying as ever. 

Then Marik appeared from the kitchen and plopped down on the couch next to Bakura, shooting him an irritated glare. "Do you realize we're almost out of forks? _Again_?"

Bakura rolled his eyes. He reached out and gave Marik's hair a tug. "Stop complaining."

Marik jerked away from his grip. "This is serious, Bakura!" he declared, his voice sounding, to Bakura, like an irritating whine. "There is absolutely no reason why you shouldn't be able to remember not to throw our forks away!" Marik shook his head and let out an exasperated groan. "I've given up entirely on ever getting you to cook anything, you can eat all the frozen dinners you want, but don't leave the forks in the tray when you throw it out!" He blew out a loud huff of air and then continued ranting. "How hard is it to just remember to take the damn fork out and put it in the sink? You already threw away my last set of forks, and I had to go to all that work of stealing a whole new set..."

Bakura started to tune out at that point, having heard this rant multiple times already, but he still smiled at what he knew Marik must be saying. He remembered Marik stealing the forks- he had to admit, if only to himself, that it _had_ been a bit brilliant. They'd been staying at a hotel, and late that night, once the diner attached to the hotel was closed, Marik had gone and broken into the restaurant to take the forks from each place setting. When Marik had told him what he'd done, Bakura had chuckled at the thought of how the workers would react the next morning, coming in to find that all the forks were missing, and nothing else. It really was pretty funny. He couldn't help but appreciate the small heist. 

"Alright, Marik," he conceded, once the other was finally silent. "Calm down. I'll try to stop throwing out the forks. I know you worked very hard to steal them." Bakura was being mildly sarcastic, but Marik still looked mostly assuaged. Impulsively, Bakura leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to his forehead. "I do appreciate-" he cut himself off. Gods, why did he always have to be so placating? He flashed back to Battle City, when they had first met, remembering how Marik had told him that he could choose to work with him or die, and Bakura had responded that if Marik didn't give him the Rod, _he_ would be the one who would die....and then just moments later, Bakura had agreed to work with him. And then he'd stabbed himself at Marik's request. Then, later, Marik had visited his mind when his host was in the hospital, demanding that he collect a bunch of locator cards when that wasn't a part of their original deal, and of course he'd refused...and then a minute later he'd been ripping the IV out of Ryou's arm and going to collect the locator cards.

No wonder he was the bottom in this relationship.

Bakura finally gave Marik a small smile and a playful smack on his arm. Marik looked affronted for a moment, but Bakura only had to look at the apparent mirth in Marik's eyes to see that it was obvious he wasn't truly upset. Just a second later, Marik leaned in and gave Bakura a quick kiss on his lips. Ra, they really were getting old. They were acting like an old married couple without even being married- or in any kind of official relationship, for that matter. In no time they'd be yelling at kids to get off of their lawn...well, not really, since they didn't actually have a lawn. Marik was afraid of low places and absolutely insisted on living in an apartment because apartments did not have basements. In an apartment, they could live on the top floor with nothing above them. And apartments didn't have lawns. So at least there was that. 

Bakura sighed deeply, more emotionally than he'd meant to, and moved to wrap his arms around his partner. Marik laughed, nuzzling Bakura's neck, and seemed to be trying very hard to sound angry when he spoke. "You know if you throw out all my forks again, you're coming with me on my next silverware heist, right?"

Bakura tried to suppress a snicker as he kissed his lover. "It's a date, then."

**Author's Note:**

> They lived happily ever after! Of course.


End file.
